crushed veneer
by dekafeene
Summary: FE13. Ylisse broke him twice. Gangrel-centric.


I don't own _Fire Emblem Awakening._

Originally longer. A long oneshot of five or six parts but I thought the first part could stand alone. Rather, it looked better when it stood on its own. As usual, English isn't my first language so expect to find mistakes and weird typos etc. and of course, criticism and reviews are welcomed.  
Enjoy :)

FE13. Ylisse broke him twice. Gangrel-centric.

* * *

**crushed veneer  
**

He became a shadow of himself after the war.

No longer king of Plegia, no longer welcomed in his home country and considered death by many, Gangrel traveled and traveled, becoming a mercenary because money was now a necessity and no more a pleasure, offering his services as a humble trickster because the golden crown that still sat upon his head after the war had now no meaning.

He was no king, and he was no citizen of Plegia either. They thought of him dead, killed by the prince of their—no, not his anymore—neighboring nation as a vengeance of the Exalt's sacrifice he had demanded out of spite. His sword, the legendary Falchion had indeed run through his chest, shedding blood of despair and tears of satisfaction on the burning sand but he survived. He didn't know what happened, why and how he did manage to survive but he opened his eyes lying down on a sand bed of an oasis and thought for a second he'd reached paradise.

But, would heaven ever open its gates for him, a sinner?

No, of course not.

Oasis was oasis, and paradise was paradise.

And he was still very much alive.

He'd been saved, but it didn't mean he had been forgiven for his sins. The village he set foot in after his recovery proved him right—he was denied, forgotten even. Rejected by his own people. He was mad, he was king and being denied, disgraced from his rightful title—how pretentious of him to think that, he was a thief in the slums before becoming king—how could they react that way before their lord? King Gangrel died in the war, he lost, they said, he's no more our king. Rejected or dead, was there really a difference?

And oh, how mad was he when he heard those words, yet how powerless was he as well. His sword was no longer tied to his hip. In fact, he didn't have it since he'd woken up in the oasis. Stripped from his title, stripped from his levin sword, in a way, Gangrel did die in the war.

King Gangrel died, and all that remained after was a broken man.

He didn't even reverted to his old habits, when he was still a thief and not a monarch. The war broke him, Ylisse broke him but he didn't even have the strength, the rage to feel mad anymore. After all, Ylisse broke him once when he was still a child in Plegia's slums and he'd felt incredibly mad, vengeful as Plegia's throne became his, so mad that he'd become his nickname and yet, that nation still managed to break him. Madness didn't lead him anywhere. If anything, it had led him to his downfall.

He had nothing left to do in Plegia anymore, it wasn't his country anymore and he didn't feel like he belonged there anymore. Once upon a time it'd been his home, when he was still a thief playing pranks on Plegian nobles and laughing happily as much as his naiveté allowed him but time passed, and he had grown since then. He was older, though not wiser.

He left Plegia some days after the peace treaty was being signed between the prince and a Plegian emissary. His only companion was an iron sword on his hip that he'd previously found in the debris of the war among the soldiers charred by the harsh heat of the desert and the burning weapons digging into the thick sand like a grave for the dead.

He was going to follow them, the soldiers that died for him and his orders—he had no purpose anymore, so what was the point to live now?—but he was too selfish, too coward to end his own life. Becoming a mercenary was his decision. To bet his life on lady luck, it fitted him best, didn't it?

King Gangrel died by the hands of Ylisse's crown prince and he was now Gangrel, a mercenary and a wanderer, but above all, he was a broken man submitting himself to lady luck's whims.


End file.
